


i'm sorry (am I losing you?)

by jonaley5



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Drowning, Fluff and Angst, Karl Jacobs Needs a Hug, Karl Jacobs-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Time Travel, Time Traveler Karl Jacobs, i really dont know what else to tag this but im tryin, i think, jk i cried too, lmfao they cry babies, no beta we die like wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28979355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonaley5/pseuds/jonaley5
Summary: "Hey, uh—" Karl snaps his fingers, "snapmap— no wait, uh- snapchat? no, no—Sapnap!"Quackity gives Sapnap an incredulous look, both knowing what it means for the both of them. Karl hops over, wrapping his arms around Sapnap, "A package of kisses for Sappitus Nappitus!" he happily lays kisses over the black-haired male, giggling before laying another."Don't think I've forgotten about you too, Mister Quack City!" Karl presses one huge kiss on Quackity's cheek, both laughing at his childishness, "Packages delivered!""Wow, Karl, its almost as if you've forgotten," Sapnap jokes, pressing a kiss on his forehead.Karl freezes, "Well— uh... Its a good thing I haven't, am I right, boys?" he laughs.<>TL:DR; in which Karl completely forgets.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity/Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 27
Kudos: 923





	i'm sorry (am I losing you?)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "fire flies - gorillaz"
> 
> all dsmp characters. everything here is fiction.  
> > i don't condone harassing the mentioned ccs in this fic.  
> > pls keep this within the community haha thank you  
> > all kudos, bookmarks, and comments are all appreciated!!
> 
> dedicate this to inky <3
> 
> come on twitter (@jona_cinq) !!  
> i'd love to hear you guys abt karlnapity
> 
> READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED. THIS IS MY WARNING FOR YOU LOT.  
> anyways happy reading!

Karl leaps out the door. 

His hands fly to his chest, frantic — desperate to touch while his skin burns of contact. 

“No, no, no…” he wheezes, “please, no more,” the brunet clenches his hoodie. His knees shook and the ropes tightened constricted air in his lungs. 

He tries again but breathes of emptiness. 

Karl falls to the grass. 

Black and white swirls flood his vision due to the impact, his eyelids instinctively closed shut as he presses with the heel of his palms. A headache boiling itself up in his brain, scarred, exhausted, unfocused; he tries to scream yet only air comes out, his lungs clamping themselves and he silently cries of the pain. 

He rubs his palms together, graphite staining his skin from the pencil with words he hurriedly attempts to write into his journal just a moment before. 

Pale blue eyes slowly open, the evening ever so warm yet so apathetic welcoming him with a huge wave of emotions. Karl closes his eyes again as he gently holds his head to squeeze pressure, hopelessly longing to seek a way out to leave a night so suffocating.

The moon mocks his misery as he lays on the grass, his body limp yet he wishes for the damp soil to swallow him. 

Fireflies flicker their light above him. They shine in the dark and sometimes that’s all that Karl needed on this lovely night (nothing about it is lovely).

The clouds passed by just like any other night in the cold, broken land, pitying him with blissful ignorance. The breeze caresses his cheeks that run of tears, with the melody of tonight — it sings to him a harsh lullaby.

Karl clings to the remaining memories he has with his fiancés. Relishing in the last pieces of moments that he spent with his lovers.

His heart continues to beat, it continues to cry, wanting to reach to no one but to his lovers but the moment his chest relieves, he weeps.

  
  


<>

  
  


Karl springs up from warm blankets and pillows.

He breathes, reminding himself of the night before that he’s out, _he’s safe_ (for now). 

He regains control over himself, slowing the pace of his breathing while letting his blue eyes sweep over trinkets and treasures of the room he resides. He continues inspecting the room, the walls of calloused oak wood, the floors of solid paling planks, bookshelves that reached the ceiling.

Dressed in soft pajamas, he calms himself.

The room is decorated with delicate orange accents, along with some belongings placed on the shelf that he can’t quite place as to why it looked and felt familiar, feeling like something is pulling him closer to grab belongings that he shouldn’t touch yet his body insists that he could. 

The curtains overflowed with pleasant honey rays as it lit up the room with a gentle glow. Karl doesn’t know where he is but he wonders why he’d rather stay. 

Nevertheless, he takes his time; the moment feels as if time itself stopped, so still and easy. How he ended up in this cozy room, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t care; everything feels like home. 

_Last night_ , Karl’s mind echoes.

Last night was a disaster.

_Water fills his lungs; it weighs him down._

_Metallic clinks and chains rattle while his arms swing to reach the surface. He screams for help, praying to whatever god out there will be kind enough to drag him, or helps himself and continue uselessly swimming up. Pockets of air bubbles leave him in the dark, with his remaining consciousness, he gives in to the pull of the water; he holds his hand out in hopes of someone hearing him, seeing him._

_Alas, help never came. It never does._

_The sea isn’t forgiving_ _—_ _it never was._

Last night, he time-traveled. 

Karl knows very well that every time he traverses through time, a piece of his mind succumbs to a blank page of where his memories should be. Pen and paper are delicate materials — to be kept, used for a purpose to preserve, however, you cannot stop the ink from fading to nothingness. 

Just like himself. 

Karl digs deep into the archives for any missing memories. 

Bits and pieces scattered, he starts to wonder if those lost memories are just as precious as the life that was once as pleasant and safe.

The door creaks, old and rustic. 

A boy with a beanie sat on top of his head entered the room, brown eyes — _pretty_. Another boy trails behind, albeit taller, paler than the other, his hair as dark as ebony. The click of the door shutting echoes in the room, yet it comes to him like a typical domestic morning, humming a melody so sweet and relishing.

“Good morning, Karl,” the guy with a beanie speaks as gently as the calm ocean, dark brown eyes with speckles of the morning sun.

Karl stays silent, enthralled. 

_Familiar_.

The two men in the doorway sought at each other (their expressions that tell a story behind troubled minds), a silent conversation taking place that Karl believes is endearing to him.

“How are you, honey?” the taller man asks, voice as smooth as caramel and Karl desires to bathe in its comfort.

Karl blinks as one of the boys coughs, “Oh— You were…” he slows, searching for words, “I was… yeah, I’m feeling okay,” he bashfully answers.

The brown-eyed man sighs, “We got something for you,” he offers him a glass of water and Karl reluctantly takes it (the glass is cold).

The black-haired man sits at the edge of the bed, leaning over to leave a peck on Karl’s hairline as soon as he disposes of the glass in the bedside table, “Where were you last night? We were looking all over for you.” 

Karl’s previously warm and pleasant bubbles pop as he feels panic rising in his chest. Scorching magma slowly ascending and waiting to spill, waiting to burst. He keeps his mouth shut, blurry dream-like images that flash right in front of his own eyes and he feels himself lose a grip on reality.

“Karl,” the black-haired boy called again, pulling Karl out of the water (he breathes freely) and holds his gaze into the other’s eyes, “what happened last night?”

“I… I can’t tell you that,” Karl mumbles, tearing the eye contact away as soon as regret crawls in his spine when the other boy’s eyes flashed upset.

The beanie-wearing guy reached for his hand, squeezing for reassurance, “Why not?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Karl tilts his head at both of the boys with pleading eyes, “ _please_.”

“Karl, baby, you need to tell us,” the black-haired male leaned in close, Karl’s intuition suddenly screams for him to lean in closer and kiss those worries away, “we don’t want to risk you getting hurt,” but kissing their worries wouldn’t resolve the issue he started, not in the way he imagined it.

Karl sighs shakily, “Should you care? You’re both strangers.”

The silence stretches - it makes him uneasy.

As though a part of him is missing a piece of himself, yet can’t figure out why. The taller boy leans away (he chases), while the hand holding his loosen (he holds onto the lingering warmth) — they look at Karl in disbelief. What was once a cool breeze in the summer beach muddled into a malicious smoke in a deadly field of landmines. 

He wants to go home, yet their faces say that he is.

_Not quite._

“What?” is all they managed to say.

“I apologize that I’m so secretive,” the other two side-eyes each other, thinking of the best course of action to maneuver the conversation in the right direction, “I don’t even know who you guys are.”

Quiet and carefully, “You don’t know us..?” 

It’s like how everyone rumored it to be, love is oh-so-beautiful as ever — the river of ripples and droplets that chimes of bells fill to the brim and rises, a surge of unrelenting deep affection and mindful concerns — it’s a shame Karl is unsure of what he is offered off.

If this were other situations, Karl would’ve laughed in beautiful irony. Instead, he swallows his gut feeling and dares to look into both lovely eyes; heavy and glassed, hazy like the mist of the night sky. 

Downhearted, the glow of passionate happiness all whisked away.

Karl asks, “...Am I supposed to?”

“You’re supposed to know,” the taller male’s voice reverberates within Karl, melancholic hope the only thing keeping a cracked dam from breaking, “do you really not know?”

He lets the pretty strangers take their time, what was he supposed to do? Karl is conflicted enough — everything is too familiar that it pains him that he doesn’t recall a single memory. 

Shaking his head out of his trance, the hand that held his broke away from his grasp. Karl hates the way he misses the affectionate language too quickly, refusing to be left in the cold with a desire too strong, opting to reach for the other’s hand again to feel his warmth. 

“No,” Karl patted the smaller’s hand with both of his, ”stay,” he insisted, voice strong but wavering as he squeezed to secure a link that was once there.

The other males cease their unfoldings; too overwhelmed to take it all in. Karl smiles apologetically, “I may not remember but something tells me I’m gonna be okay if I’m with the both of you,” he bubbles with a bashful giggle, and with that, his vision starts to blur all together. 

He wipes his watering eyes, “Tell me something that I don’t,” he asks in genuine curiosity as he reaches for the taller male, silent tears running down the boy’s face. “What’s your name?” when Karl’s palm reaches for his cheek, the boy _breaks_ , spilling all his grief in his tears, and leans forward to feel more of Karl.

“Sapnap,” he replies, pressing his lips in Karl’s palm, and a peal of breathy laughter leaves his chest — his laughter so sweet and rich of fresh citrus apart from the hint of bitter berries that blend in the sound.

Sapnap pulled the other smaller male closer to him, the boy’s brown irises that Karl once observed to be previously hazy now feigned surprise to be hoisted up, “this is Quackity,” he introduces. 

Quackity exhales a breath he doesn’t know he was holding, “You’ve been forgetting a lot for a while now, Karl — losing track of time, messing up our names, describing the wrong events — _everything_. We were worried, but- but you always insisted that you were fine, 

“And now you’re…” Quackity quickly inhales, he trembles over his words, “w-we lost you…” 

The brunet breathes wistfully, “I’m fine now that you guys are here. My memories may be slowly fading away, but I think you guys will make it worthwhile,” he beams lovingly, determined not to weigh their spirits.    
  
Karl brings Quackity’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle peck on his hand. He then leans forward to plant a kiss on Sapnap’s cheek. He stays within their embrace to bask in their presence, a sense of déjà vu washing over him, delicate and caring like a blanket.

As soon as he pulls away, both boys smiling so lovingly that he can't help but laugh at their moment so intimate that he wouldn’t want this any other way.

_ Familiar. _

“So you’re Sapnap and you’re Quackity,” he repeats, his boys ( _ his boys? _ ) smiling as Karl recites their names as if he were a part of an orchestra. 

“I’m Karl — _I think_ ,” he stifles his giggle at his own uncertainty, “but I think you guys know that already.”

Time is an everlasting cycle and his story is fleeting  — he might as well make the best of it while he remembers.


End file.
